


A Home

by choriarty



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Domestic Abuse mentioned, Fluff and Angst, M/M, The abuser is NOT Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-18
Updated: 2012-08-18
Packaged: 2017-11-12 09:25:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/489335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/choriarty/pseuds/choriarty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil Coulson doesn't find it hard to come to work, he just finds it hard to pretend to look normal at work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Home

Coming to work wasn’t hard. Slipping out from under the covers of his bed in his apartment was never a chore, neither was choosing a good suit and tie (they all looked the same except for some details. Once in awhile, a friend or teammate would notice the small difference and comment on it. The Avengers had caught on once Steve Rogers had pointed it out, and just the other day Tony Stark had called him out from across the halls of the Helicarrier “‘Suit Number Three’ this week, eh Agent?” They had numbered the suits he wore and it had become a running gag to see which member could figure out which one it was that particular day. Others might guess first, but it was always Captain Rogers who got it right somehow.)

Agent Coulson prepped himself his his small bathroom, brushing his teeth and such. He took a bit more time than usual to get some things in order and soon left for work. A black suitcase hung on his hand by his side as the agent walked down the street, sun burning down from above. It was only ten o’clock, yet the great star in the sky flamed on and proceeded to make everyone uncomfortable. Yet the man was hardly phased though he was wearing a thick, layered, black suit and tie. Temperature had long since stopped making him uncomfortable, especially in this weather. Today was nice. He had been in the desert and New Mexico with this thick as hell suit, this was nothing.

No, it wasn’t hard going to work- so much as it was hard staying calm at work.

Not in the has-to-deal-with-superhero-and-non-superhero-idiots-on-an-hourly-basis keep calm way, but another. More of an emotional calm, which doesn’t seem very different from the first, but is. It is quite different.

When Phil Coulson entered the base, no one treated him differently. He acted normal, he looked normal, and he seemed normal as ever- or as ‘normal’ as the agent got (which was not very ‘normal’, but normal enough). He nodded to the lady at the front desk, who ignored him as usual. She had a keen talent of never acknowledging any of the staff’s existence unless it was an intruder, it was like she had a nose for it.

Nothing seemed different about Phil.

Then he bumped into Steve Rogers in the hallway. Literally. The agent have an accidental grunt as he hit his nose on the man’s rock hard chest and stepped back, the captain stepped back as well to be polite.

“Oh! I’m sorry Phil- er, Agent. I wasn’t looking where I was going, are you okay?” The words slipped from his mouth, jumbling together in a frantic attempt to get them all out at once.

“Mm, I’m fine. Don’t worry yourself, Captain Rogers.” Phil groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. He felt something warm start to run down it, yet when he wiped underneath it was just runny mucus. He winced at the embarrassing and unprofessional sight. “Sorry-”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”

“Please, calm yourself. It’s not serious at all.” he wiped at the clear liquid again.

“Yes it is!” Steve exclaimed, shocked for some reason. “Your jaw is practically purple!”

Agent Coulson froze immediately, a cold chill of panic washing through him. His wrist halted where it was wiping at the snot and he realized that it had gotten on his chin, smudging what was there. His face turned a sudden green and the captain’s eyes widened. He asked something, startled by the colour of the agent’s face, but whatever it was flew right over his head. All of his alarms and cells went on high alert and he jerked his hand away when he realized that Steve had reached for it.

“I-” he choked. “I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.” Phil brushed off his suit and took another sharp step back. “Good day.” Then he was off. Captain Rogers called out for him but he didn’t look back. At one point, as his heart was beating against his chest like a war drum, he thought that the taller man would chase after him. Thank goodness he didn’t.

Agent Coulson didn’t hesitate in going to the male’s washrooms and fixing his face up once more. In a minute he looked good as new, nothing wrong or different. There was nothing different about him at all, he was normal as always.

Normal as always.

The next week is quiet. Too quiet. He sees Steve only once in the halls and just as he did, the man jumped like he was caught looking at something he shouldn’t and scurried off. Every member of the Avengers also mysteriously avoided him. It didn’t do good for his morale.

Coming home and going to work both got hard during that week.

Then it was Monday again, and Phil didn’t have a good feeling. Something was off, but it wasn’t with the agents or the staff. He could feel a pair of eyes on him and he could have sworn it was Barton or something from the fact that he hadn’t caught the culprit yet, but that would have been stupid. There was no reason for him to be followed.

He was almost at his desk- almost.

Then Tony Stark stepped out from behind the doorway and splashed his face with water. Phil just shut his eyes tight and stopped where he was. The hands gripping the binder he was holding tightened and clenched. His face turned into a cold expression and he took a moment to open his eyes, hard and angry. Iron Man made a face and raised his arms a tad, about to take a step back.

Then his expression fell and his face turned a sickly pale as he stared at the agent. He returned the look with one of confusion, what was wrong? Had he grown another eye? With the way he gaped at him it sure seemed so. Phil licked his lips absent-mindedly, trying to read what was on Stark’s mind.

Then it all came crashing down at him. He opened his mouth and closed it twice, knowing what the taste of that chemical was on his face. His skin turned green and he froze up again, like a rat in a trap. He pretty much was one as he whipped around to meet Steve and Clint blocking his exit. His eyes were wide and terrified as the ones watching him turned shocked and then frustrated.

It wasn’t water that was thrown at his face. It never was. The substance was makeup remover.

The foundation dripped off of Agent Coulson’s face to reveal a horrifyingly huge shiner, along with several cuts and bruises along his cheeks, forehead, and chin. They were dark and purple, with one being partially yellow at the edges.

Tony’s face had turned from surprised to hard, while Clint was still wide-eyed as if begging for the agent to tell him what happened. Steve just looked... worried. He looked like he just had a friend shot in the face right in front of him, it was as if he was a kicked puppy. His eyes were like a dog’s who was unable to protect his master. It made Phil cringe.

“Agent-- what the hell?” Stark hissed. “What happened to you? I know you have some weird three-way relationship with getting hurt on the job and still coming into work, but this is ridiculous.”

Barton made a comment from behind Captain America, who was silent and serious. “And why are you wearing makeup? If you’re trying hard to not get kicked out of the office then that was stupid because no one is going to give a crap anyways. What’s going on, Phil?” (The name made Tony inappropriately lip the correction ‘Agent’ from the other side of Coulson)

There was a dead silence. None of the Avengers said a word, waiting for the agent who was never going to tell a word. He would see pigs fly before he told a soul. Then again- with his line of work he wouldn't base his entire stubborness on that. Who knows.

Then Steve stepped forward. He was standing in Phil's face before they both knew, and neither was budging an inch of emotional ground. He looked down at the smaller man for a moment, making the tension in the air even thicker. The agent had a hard and cold expression on, not betraying anything.

It made Steve sad.

His face melted into one of worry and he frowned. He looked at Phil, just hoping that he would say something- anything. Just tell them that he was all right. Yet he never said a word. The captain knit his eyebrows together and slowly reached out to touch his face. He wanted to touch his skin- to see if those injuries were real or not. He wanted to hold his chin and inspect him, tell him everything was going to be okay.

His hand hesitated and jerked back a bit. Then he looked down at his shoes. Phil waited for something, a slap or a hit. He braced himself for anger or yelling, but instead Steve lunged forward and embraced the agent. It left him off balance and confused. He... he didn't expect that. Rogers just pressed his face into the shorter man's shoulder and held on tight, not expecting anything more than silence from Coulson. He didn't need to. Steve wouldn't care.

He would talk to the others, tell them to lay off. All he needed was this moment to hold Phil, to feel him in his arms and try to let him soak in some human warmth. He wanted him to know he wasn't alone, and if he needed time or space he would give it to him.

Steve wasn't dumb. He knew the signs of domestic abuse when he saw it.

The makeup, the hiding and avoidance. It all pointed to one thing- and to be honest the captain was ashamed for not seeing it sooner. Phil had been 'dead' or 'MIA' for months, who wouldn't be angry. Yet that was no excuse to beat him, to hurt the liason of The Avengers. Whoever this cellist was, they would need to watch their back- because whenever Phil was ready enough to say it outloud, they were going to deal with them.

Steve didn't expect a reaction or any comment from Phil, Phil didn't either. He had planned to play the cold shoulder- play it off and never talk about it. He would have the security tapes wiped and no one would say a thing.

But the uncontrollable tears streaming down his face had another idea.

Agent Coulson hiccupped softly, sobs escaping his throat. He didn't want to cry- he didn't feel like crying. He was better than this. However the sudden warm embrace of Steve Rogers without a word-- it broke him. He couldn't hold it in any longer.

Coming to work was hard, putting on consealer every morning to hide the bruises hurt, keeping the truth from those he cared about was difficult. It had been hard, so very hard. He was tired. Tired of lying and tired of getting hurt by the person he thought loved him.

Finally it all came out, and Phil whimpered as he buried his face into Steve's shirt. The captain hummed soothing words, telling him that it was all right now and that he was here. That he was never going to leave him, and Steve was always going to protect him.

"You're safe," he cooed to the shaking agent in his arms. "as long as I live I will protect you, Phil. I'll always be here."

All Phil had wanted was a home. A warm place to know he was safe, where he could come back to after work and have someone he loved waiting for him there. It was a place that not just anyone could fill, not even the entire Avengers team. He felt safe with them, but it wasn't his home. He wanted one of his own, and someone to share it with.

Something stirred within the captain then, as he held the suddenly vulnerable and more human Phil Coulson. His heart beat raced and he said each word and promise with an extreme amount of emotion, and he didn't now why. All he knew was that he was going to keep all of those one way or another. Phil choked out another sob and Steve's eyes started to sting.

"Your home is with-" The word 'me' almost slipped from the captain's mouth. "-us,"

Steve held the back of the other man's head and held the short hair between his fingers. "I will always protect you, I promise."


End file.
